


Firebird

by Tynytyg



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Gen, iwaoi if you squint, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7226500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tynytyg/pseuds/Tynytyg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru is a firebird (metaphorically) and that intensity comes at a price</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firebird

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a quote and a gifset I found on tumblr and then written at like 1 in the morning, as apparently a great many of my fics are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ anyway, here take this poetry inspired, iwaoi-if-you-squint, character study (sort of) Oikawa fic

I am a Phoenix

 

Oikawa Tooru made a running leap, and everything about him was fire. From the dull burn in every muscle to the searing light behind his eyes, he was a living flame. His arm snapped forward sharply, palm meeting the ball with a gunshot sound, and the volleyball rocketed through the air as if propelled by that fiery will. 

It slammed home on the opposite side of the court, landing solidly between two stunned and unmoving receivers. The watching crowd roared. 

In his third year, Tooru wasn't going to let any team get between him and defeating his rival, no matter what. Ushijima Wakatoshi didn't know what was coming for him.

 

Watch me fall. 

 

The loss was crushing. Iwaizumi was shaken. Hannamaki and Matsukawa were trying not to cry. Tooru didn't let himself feel it, not yet. He couldn't. He had to make sure his team could continue, could win it all next year. Even if he wouldn't be here to see it. 

Karasuno celebrated across the net, while Seijoh counted their loss and held their heads high. Thanked their cheering section. Walked off the court with their pride. Stretched, cooled down. Shared back-slaps and words of comfort, the second and first years said "next year" to each other, while not looking their upperclassmen in the eyes. 

Yahaba and Kyotani argued, but the spite had gone out of it. It was over, for this year. For the third years. 

Oikawa sat on the bus, and didn't cry. 

 

Watch me burn. 

 

Iwaizumi found him, lying in his room and staring blankly at the ceiling, all the fire from practice turned inward now. Replaying the game over and over helplessly in his mind. The past was past. There was nothing he could do now. 

He had a vague, irrational urge to go practice his serve until his legs gave out under him, until he really did hurt himself, until Iwaizumi did it for him. Until his mind stopped churning, repeating the same scenes. Until he was so exhausted he couldn't think about it anymore. 

Iwaizumi found him like that, lying in the floor and swearing softly at himself. Cursing his own inadequacy. Maybe if he'd done a little more, jumped a little higher, pushed a little harder. 

Maybe if he'd connected with the rest of the team just a little better. Maybe if he'd brought out their true potential. 

He didn't want to face the idea that maybe, just maybe, he had. And that it still hadn't been enough. 

"Oi, shittykawa." A familiar voice, more familiar almost than his own, rough with shed tears and worry. His Iwa-chan, come to rescue him from himself. Tooru's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. A face appeared between his and the ceiling. "Oi. You okay?"

"No," was the simple answer. 

But like hell was Iwa-chan going to let him get away with the simple answer. He sat down next to Tooru's head, leaned his back against Tooru's bedpost, and looked up at the stars painted on Tooru's ceiling. He remembered helping paint them. The lopsided one just off-center from the ceiling fan was the first star he'd painted. The big, round-edged one right beside it had been Tooru's first attempt. 

"Talk about it." It wasn't a request, but it wasn't a demand either. Iwaizumi had learned long ago that his best friend was a little dense (read: denser than lead) about some things, and needed the occasional hearty shove in the right direction. 

"Don't wanna." Petulant was good, it meant there was still some fight left in Tooru after all. 

"I'll smother you with this pillow," Iwaizumi offered idly, not moving. 

"You love me too much." The slight hesitation, the wobble in the voice. So that's which insecurity it was tonight. Or at least, that one was the least painful of the current ones. 

"You're right." He answered, voice mild and agreeable. "I'd miss your stupid face, and the whining, and the showing up at my house at weird times-"

"Hey, you can't accuse me of that you hypocrite!" Oikawa interrupted, "you're here and it's-" he sat up to check his glow in the dark wall clock "-almost ten thirty on a school night!" 

Iwaizumi ignored him. "And the interrupting, and the complaining, and the over-practicing and under-eating and the smiles and the laughter and watching shitty alien movies until we both pass out. You're my best friend." 

Oikawa's lower lip trembled, and he sat up, twisting so he could look at Iwaizumi. "You really mean all that?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't." Iwaizumi said, voice a little gruff, looking away from those big, vulnerable, red and puffy eyes. Tooru always was an ugly crier. 

"Iwa-chan!" He half-wailed, and turned so he could fall across Iwaizumi's torso, face buried in his chest, arms around his neck. He dissolved into sobs for a good twenty minutes, while Iwaizumi rubbed comforting circles on his back and said nothing. When he did manage to compose himself, he sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He returned his face to the wet spot on Iwaizumi's shirt. "I didn't do it."

"/We/ didn't do it." Iwaizumi corrected. "You did everything. The team with the better six wins, right? They just had the better six this time."

"I wanted to beat him so badly." Tooru said softly, voice muffled. 

"I know."

"What am I going to do? That was my… my goal. It was all I was doing."

"I'll tell you then. You're gonna go to Karasuno's match tomorrow. You're gonna accept the scouting offer from one of the big universities, I know you've been getting them, your mom reads your mail." A tiny, betrayed gasp came from the vicinity of Iwaizumi's chest. "You're gonna go to uni, you're gonna kick uni's ass. You're going to be the best college setter you can be and you're gonna kick Ushiwaka's ass. You're not gonna serve /any/ volleyballs into the back of his head. Even if you want to and there's a really good opportunity. You're gonna come back from this. You're gonna be okay. But right now you're gonna come downstairs and watch shitty alien movies with me. Your mom made popcorn."

Tooru sniffed, and looked up at Iwa-chan with red-rimmed, watery eyes. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

"I'm the only friend you've ever had." He flicked Tooru's forehead, deflecting the compliment on reflex. 

"Iwa-chan, I'm hurt!" His halfhearted, feigned offended tone wasn't nearly as good as usual. 

"Cmon, let's go." Iwaizumi got up, hauling Tooru to his feet as he went, which wasn't easy when the big baby was taller than him. 

 

Watch me rise. 

 

Oikawa Tooru made a running leap, and everything about him was fire. The flaming resolve he'd nurtured from an ember to a blaze had taken hold of him the day that Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa, the day they proved it could be done. Tooru had carried that blaze, and it had carried him through hours of practice, of staying up late to finish homework and study hard, through his first years of university. It had carried him through missing Iwaizumi, who was off pursuing sports medicine three train stops and two cities away. It had carried him through a relapse of his old bad habits that threatened to injure his knee again. It had grown, had become more than just fire. It had stabilized, into a steady smolder like the heat of a summer day in the desert. 

And now, it had carried him here. 

Facing his rival across the court again, filled still with that flaming, invincible summer. 

Ushijima wasn't invincible, and he had no idea what was coming for him.


End file.
